A Fever You Can't Sweat Out
by Starship Phoenix
Summary: Dabi gets the flu, the League takes action, and a secret comes to light.


_Dabi leans his head back against the brick cell wall, his eyes sliding shut from exhaustion._

_"Fuck 'em," he says, half slurred. "Fuck the lot of them."_

_._

"Dabi, are you listening?"

Dabi jerks his head up off his hand so violently he almost falls off the barstool.

"What?"

Shigaraki tries to bite back a growl and very nearly fails.

"I said, are. You. Listening."

Dabi blinks slowly, like a cat.

"Yes?"

Toga laughs from across the table, and Dabi glares at her.

"Yes," he says, more definitively.

Shigaraki scowls at him between pale fingers. Dabi wishes the bastard didn't have to wear those gross hands all the time. It had to be unsanitary.

"Alright then," Shigaraki says, still glaring at Dabi, "if we're all confident of the plan, we'll commence two days from now."

There is a chorus of approval, and then the League starts to trickle out back to wherever they hide when they're not being villains. Compress first, then Spinner. Twice goes next, muttering to himself. Shigaraki departs through the door behind the bar to his room, and then it is just Dabi and Toga, who has plopped herself in the chair next to him and is swinging her legs like an impatient child.

"Hey Dabi," she says, entirely too chipper.

Dabi ignores her. She nudges him.

"Hey."

Dabi ignores her. She gets up in his face.

"Hey."

Dabi sighs, conceding. "What."

"Are you ok? You look a little…"

Dabi raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. He isn't about to put words in Toga's mouth. Toga's mouth is…unpleasant.

Toga pouts when it becomes clear that Dabi isn't going to humor her. "Sick. You look really, really …sick, Dabi."

Her brows are scrunched up with concern, and for a second she looks like—he shakes the thought from his mind and fixes her with a glare.

"I'm fine."

Toga looks at him disbelievingly but shrugs. "As long as you're still 'fine' two days from now."

Dabi frowns, his lips tugging uncomfortably against his scars. He is a little tired and a little nauseous but otherwise fine. He's been worse. A lot worse.

"I'll be fine," he repeats.

Toga stares at him, and then gives him a sickly-sweet smile. "Okie-dokie! See you then!"

And then she practically skips out of the bar. Dabi stares after her. She's crazy. The whole League is. It makes him uncomfortable, spending any amount of time with the types of people he spent most of his life avoiding like the plague. He wishes they didn't care so much about him. It makes it harder to hate them. He heaves himself off his barstool and shuffles to the door. He's fine. Really.

.

_Sweat drips down Dabi's face. Where he still has skin it is pale and clammy. "Fucking lame-ass villains. Ruining fucking, everything," he mumbles. "Including me." He gives a chuckle, then winces._

_._

They're in the back of Spinner's stolen van because of course they are, and Dabi is trying to hold down the contents of his stomach. Luckily, he hasn't eaten in a few days, or he'd have already puked on Twice, who is sitting next to him and glancing at him with what is probably concern, though it is hard to tell through the mask.

Spinner is driving because Toga can't, nobody trusts Twice with a vehicle, Shigaraki thinks it's below him, and Compress, well, Dabi wasn't sure what his issue is. He probably thinks this is all amusing. He seems the type to watch chaos unfold with a smile rather than attempt to contain it like Kurogiri used to do. Dabi almost misses the stabilizing presence Kurogiri had on the League. Almost.

A sharp swerve to the right jerks Dabi from his thoughts and he groans as his head spins. His body feels sore, reminiscent of an earlier time in his life, and Spinner's godawful driving isn't helping matters.

"You okay?" Twice asks.

"Why do you people keep asking me that question?" Dabi retorts. His voices scratches in his throat.

"Because you look…"

This time Dabi doesn't wait for his fellow villain to find the word. "Sick?"

Twice nods. "You look sick."

"I'm fine," Dabi asserts. It's starting to feel like a lie the more he says it.

Twice puts his palm to Dabi's forehead, and Dabi tries to swat it away, but he's too tired, too sore, too…goddammit. He's sick.

"You're feelin' pretty hot, Dabi."

Dabi grits his teeth. "It's my quirk. I always run a little hot."

It isn't technically a lie.

"You'd better not compromise the mission," Shigaraki cuts in.

"I'm. Fine."

Maybe if he says it enough times…

.

_Dabi coughs, and it wracks his whole body. The coughing pulls at the edges of his scars, and he stares a little deliriously at the small trickle of blood he wipes off his face._

_"Can't even get me to a fucking. Hospital." he says. "Unless this is a hospital?" He looks around his surroundings, taking them in. Stone walls, steel bars, and a large silhouette standing just outside them, blocking most of the light._

_"This is either the shittiest hospital ever or a jail cell and I haven't spent enough time in either to be able to tell the difference." Dabi looks at the person outside his cell._

_"Hey you. Can you pass a message to my friends? Tell them they fucking suck and I hate them. They ditched me the second the heroes showed up, didn't they?" Dabi laughs, miserably, and it sets off another coughing fit._

_._

Dabi is laying on a filthy couch, the League huddled around him. His eyes are closed, because the light from the one lightbulb in the room is too bright. His body aches so much he isn't sure if he'll be able to sit up even if he wanted to. And despite the sweat clinging to his skin, he feels cold. He's half tempted to activate his quirk. Maybe he can just burn the sickness away? At least that way he'd be warm.

The League's voices sound too sharp in his ears, their words bouncing around his head and making his headache worse. He wishes they would just. Leave him alone. But no. They're debating.

"What's wrong with him?" Twice asks.

"He's sick, dummy. Obviously."

"I know that Toga, but normal people just get better, right? He's been getting worse and worse."

Dabi chuckles weakly. "Normal? I've tried normal. It didn't stick."

Dabi's joke doesn't get a response. Maybe he didn't say it loud enough? Dabi is about to open his mouth when someone speaks.

"It's probably the flu."

That was Mr. Compress.

"The flu? How'd he get the flu?"

Dabi would like to know that too. He's usually so careful about germs, since any infection can easily overpower his weak immune system.

"Well, it's not like any of us can just walk into a hospital for a flu shot, right?"

"Speak for yourself, Spinner. I always get my flu shot."

"Yeah, well fuck you, Shapeshifter Girl."

"But what should we do with him?" Twice asks, concern lacing his voice. "People with the flu need medicine, right?"

"Let's steal some medicine!"

"Toga," Compress says gently, "as much as I have faith in your skills, Dabi needs more than just medicine at this point."

"What do you mean?"

"Yeah, Compress, what do you mean?" Shigaraki speaks for the first time. He sounds frustrated.

"It's obvious that Dabi's body is unable to fight off the infection on its own. He may be developing pneumonia. He has several of the symptoms already."

Dabi feels his heart pounding in his chest, and he's suddenly aware of just how difficult breathing is. Pneumonia. He knows what that is, and it's bad. He opens his eyes, squinting through the stabbing light. Everyone is huddled around him, worry written on their faces.

"I'm fine," Dabi croaks out. "See? I'm sitting up."

"I think he's delirious," Twice stage whispers to the others.

"I'm not delirious!" Dabi insists. "I'm perfectly rational." He pauses. " You're the delirious one."

Toga giggles. "He's funnier like this."

Shigaraki stares at Dabi, considering. "What happens if he doesn't get to a hospital?"

Compress hums. "Well, worst case scenario is that he dies. Slowly and painfully."

Everyone stares in shock at Compress, then turns their gazes back to Dabi.

"I can't die," he says, hoping it doesn't sound as pathetic as he feels. "I still have people I need to kill."

.

_Dabi stares at the shadowy figure in front of him. The light and his headache make it impossible for him to tell who it is._

_"Are you a hero?"_

_There's no response._

_"You are, aren't you." Dabi leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Let me tell you, you're doing a real bang-up job, leaving me to sit here in this cell instead of giving me medical treatment. Don't you know I'm sick?"_

_Dabi gives a little fake cough for effect, but it turns into a full coughing fit. When it's through, he groans and wipes more blood from his mouth. He lifts his hand and waves it slowly before letting it drop like dead weight back down to his side._

_"Pneumonia. Apparently that can happen if you don't get antibiotics when you're sick. I'm currently in the slow process of dying. Isn't that funny? So many people tried to take me out and it's germs that get me in the end."_

_._

They're in Spinner's van again, racing towards a hospital. Presumably. Dabi fell asleep for a while, so he's not entirely certain they're not just dumping his useless body in the river. Every bump of the road tears through him like a bullet, and his head is pounding like he got kicked in the face. The nausea is making the van seem like it's spinning in circles.

Maybe that's just Spinner.

"Are we almost there?" someone next to him asks. He brushes aside the concern that he honestly doesn't know who was speaking. He's fine. Honestly, they're all overreacting.

"Shit!" comes a yell from the front of the van. Spinner. Dabi smiles. See? He knows who that was. He can still think . He's not delirious.

"What is it?"

"Heroes!"

"Heroes? Why the hell are there heroes?"

"I don't know, man, but they're here!"

"Shit."

"What do we do?"

"We run, obviously!"

"But what about Dabi?"

There's an uncomfortable pause. Dabi fills it with coughing.

"We leave him."

"Leave him?"

"He needs a hospital, right? The heroes will take him to one."

"But-"

"They're coming! We need to go, now!"

"If we take him with us, we'll just have to do this all over again, and in that time he'll only get worse."

"…okay."

And then Dabi is left with silence.

.

_"You heroes think you're all high and mighty, don't you. But you're no better than the rest of us." Dabi gives a bitter laugh. "Some of you are worse, actually…Did you ever stop to consider that you heroes are human too? Because humans…Humans are the worst."_

_._

Dabi feels himself get hauled to his feet.

"Is that him? The guy who killed Snatch?"

Through the haze of his thoughts, Dabi catches two words. 'Snatch' and 'killed.' That name keeps getting thrown in his face, and the memory of what happened to the hero sinks in his gut.

"Didn't kill him," he protests blearily.

"No one cares what you have to say, villain."

The voice is gruff and familiar in a way that makes Dabi instantly perk up. He lifts his head. Even though his head is pounding, even though he feels seconds from passing out, it would be impossible to not recognize the man who has haunted his daydreams and nightmares in equal measure for the last ten years.

"Ah, damn," he says, "of course it's you."

.

_"That's the problem with heroes. They think they're flawless. At least villains cop to being messed up."_

_._

The man in front of his cell speaks for the first time. He speaks in a low voice, almost to himself.

"You're wrong. Heroes know they have flaws. They try to fix them. Improve them. Villains are stagnant. Heroes can change. "

Dabi laughs. It hurts, but he can't help it. For a second it's as if the cell walls fade away and he is ten years old again, gasping for air, sweat dripping onto the floor, a towering figure looming over him, and the smell of smoke wafting through the air. Then he coughs again, and the memory slides back into the brick walls before he can strike back. It's always like that. He tries to stand, tries to fight back, but he never can. He clenches his fists and wonders why his quirk isn't coming when he calls for it. He is sick. Sick of everything. Of the hypocrisy of heroes, of his own inadequacies. Of his body failing when he needs it most, every single time. He looks up at the hero outside his cell. His stance is strong and unyielding and it makes Dabi sick.

"You think heroes can change? Let me tell you a story. A story about a little boy who just wanted to do his father proud, but couldn't because nothing he did could live up to what his father wanted from him. A story about a boy who lived in constant pain, who watched his siblings go ignored, who watched his mother driven to insanity, who watched his father, a so-called hero, push his youngest brother almost to the breaking point, day after day after day. You think a man like that can change? You're out of your goddamn mind!"

Dabi coughs again, and the hero takes the opportunity to speak. His voice is icy cold, and it sends involuntary chills down Dabi's spine.

"Who are you."

Dabi frowns, because this hero has to know who he is, right? But something in the hero's voice makes him think he's looking for a different answer. He wants to know who Dabi really is. Who Dabi was, before he rose from the ashes of his past life with a new name and a single purpose. Something inside Dabi cracks, and for a second his thoughts are clear. The haze lifts briefly from his mind and he decides that if he's going to die, he might as well go out telling the truth. Might as well claim one last victory. He may not have been able to kill his father, but at least his father would never get to kill him .

"Who am I?" he says, a manic grin stretching across his face. "I am who my father made me."

The hero crouches down in front of Dabi's cell, letting enough light pass to illuminate his features. Dabi looks into familiar blue eyes.

"Who. Are. You."

Dabi laughs, long and hard, until his chest heaves and he's short of breath. He's won.

.

_"Who am I? My name is Todoroki Touya, and I am your son."_


End file.
